


Fatherhood

by YvonneSilver



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Trans Character, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonneSilver/pseuds/YvonneSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras makes a big decision, and all of the Amis doubt it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatherhood

Based on [this tumblr post](http://tragicfuckboyjavert.tumblr.com/post/121151097726).

 

Enjolras takes another swig from the bottle. The cheap whiskey tingles in his mouth and burns all the way down his throat before settling warmly in his stomach. He wipes his mouth with the back of his free hand and passes the bottle on to Bossuet. There are seven of them today – Bahorel had a concert and is out with his fellow musicians, Jehan insisted he needed at least  _some_  sleep before the midterms, and no-one’s been able to reach Grantaire, so it’s Bossuet, Joly, Marius, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly and himself – assembled on the roof of the philosophy building. In his second year, Feuilly had discovered a way to climb up there, out of sight of campus security, and they’d been meeting up here for drinks and metaphysical discussions ever since.

 

Today it’d been Enjolras’ turn to bring the alcohol, and he’d settled on something stronger than the wine they usually drink. He needs just a little more courage tonight for what he wants to tell them. Something has been weighing on his mind for quite a while now, but he hadn’t been able to find the right place to say it. Here, with the stars above him and his friends beside him, he feels safe. Safe enough to tell them.

“My friends,” he declares in his oration voice. “I have an announcement to make.” He gets to his feet and looks around at his circle of friends. To his right, Joly has spread his legs so Bossuet can sit in front of him where it’s easier to rummage through his hair. Next to them are Marius, then Combeferre, who halt their heated discussion on whether or not babies should listen to music in the womb. Then finally on his left are Courfeyrac and Feuilly who have been sneaking each other kisses all night long when they think none of the others are looking.

 

Enjolras looks at each of them in turn and wonders how they’re going to take the news. He straightens his jacket and takes a deep breath. “I think the time has come for me to pass on my wisdom to the next generation. My friends, I want a child.”

He steels himself for their reaction, but hardly any of them look surprised. Courfeyrac, who’s put his head in Feully’s lap, laughs. “Dude, where’re you gonna find a kid at this time of night?” He lilts.

“Just ‘cause you want one doesn’t mean you can go out and get one!” Marius exclaims, shooting an angry glance at Courfeyrac, which the latter easily ignores.

“Wait a couple of months, you can be godfather to Marius’ spawn.” Feuilly says, playfully punching Marius in the arm.

“No, I want to  _have_  a child.” Enjolras says, frustrated. He gestures to his underbelly.

 

This time he sees the reaction he was expecting. The looks on his friends faces range from shock to confusion to disbelief.

Joly is the first to find his voice. “But you can’t have children! You don’t... You don’t have the parts!”

“Excuse you.” Enjolras glares, looking exceptionally haughty. “I have perfectly functioning uterus here. Just ‘cause I don’t want it doesn’t mean I can’t use it.”

Joly furrows his brow. “Oh. Oh!” He looks Enjolras up and down as his mind makes the connection. “Oh wow! Wait until I tell the other medstudents.”

“Pregnant men! What is the world coming to.” Bossuet laments, in that flamboyant way of his, before sitting up and winking at E. “I think you’ll be a great father.”

 

“No wait.” Marius interrupts. “You can’t just randomly decide to have a child. That’s like, a little person we’re talking about. Where is this coming from?”

“Hey! I’m not just going to go out and get pregnant on a whim!” Enjolras huffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been thinking on this ever since you told us that you were going to be a father. I’ll find a way to make it work. A little support would be nice.”

“It’s not that we don’t support you.” Combeferre says gently. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all.”

“Of course we’ll support you.” Marius adds, conciliatory. “And you’re welcome to babysit for us after Cosette delivers, to get some practice.”

Enjolras huffs again, but does appear to be slightly mollified.

 

“So, who’re you considering for, uh... the other father?” Feuilly asks.

Suddenly none of them want to look at him, and Enjolras knows that he’s made a right choice here. “Oh no, I would never ask one of you.” He hastens to say. “That would be weird.” He can see their relief in the slump of their shoulders.

Joly smiles at him. “So you’re going to a sperm bank?”

“Well, no. This is an important decision. It can’t be just anyone of course.” Enjolras starts to go into speech-mode, pacing up and down and gesturing with his hands. “I need a donor who knows about my situation, and respects it. I’m looking for good genes, and a good heart. Someone strong and handsome. Someone passionate and dedicated.” He’s building up steam, and in the heat of the moment he decided to just come out and say it. “So I’ve decided on inspector Javert.”

 

Bossuet, who’s been trying to gently feed Joly a swallow of whiskey, quickly jerks away the bottle as Joly sprays them both with a mouthful of alcohol. “WHAT?”

Courfeyrac starts to laugh. “You’re joking, right? You have to be joking.”

Enjolras glances at him in disdain. “This is no time for jokes. I’m going to ask the inspector.”

“You mean the guy who’s broken up about half our protests?” Combeferre exclaims. “The one who, if I’ve counted correctly, has thrown your ass in jail a whopping SEVENTEEN times? Why?”

“He’s a good man.”

“Yeah, he’s also the asshole who threw me in jail last week for walking down Rue de la Procession.” Courfeyrac counters.

“You were drunk and singing Beyoncé. Loudly. And out of tune. It’s called drunken disorderly and he was just doing his job.”

“This is a terrible idea.” Feuilly says, shaking his head.

“What makes you think he’ll even say yes?” Marius asks.

“Like I said, he’s a good man. He’ll listen to reason.”

“Sure. Let us know how that works out.” Bossuet says sarcastically.

Enjolras takes his place in the circle again and reaches for the whiskey. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”


End file.
